Old allegiances crumble in battle for Palestinian hearts and minds

Qalandia checkpoint outside Jerusalem. The nearby refugee camp houses families that fled Israel in 1948 but its inhabitants are now split by political rivalries between Fatah and Hamas. Photograph: Sean Smith

Zuhair Abu Latifa's toyshop is the first in a row of shops inside the Qalandia refugee camp, not far from the tall concrete wall that cuts off the occupied West Bank from Jerusalem. It is a single street in a tightly connected community, but it cuts across the entire spectrum of Palestinian politics.

In the past, refugee camps like this one, housing families that fled Israel in 1948, would have been strongholds of Fatah, the secular movement that for the past generation has been at the forefront of the Palestinian struggle for independence.

But Mr Abu Latifa, 51, having been a lifetime Fatah supporter, voted for Hamas, the hardline Islamic movement that won the last elections. It was his way of punishing Fatah for its many failings. "They were crooks, thieves and warlords," he said, sitting on a plastic chair in the sun outside his shop. "They still haven't cleaned themselves up." The rest of his family, including his four teenage children and his brother and sister, are still Fatah supporters.

A few yards further along the street are others who vow to remain lifelong Fatah loyalists. Working next to them are overtly religious families who back Hamas. At least one other shopkeeper in the street refuses to vote at all. All speak anxiously about the factional violence and fear of civil war that has gripped the Palestinian territories in the past weeks. But many also share a profound frustration with all their political leadership.

"Each of our leaders has his own gang and every one of them tries to impose his own agenda," said Mr Abu Latifa. "That makes it hard to have real democracy, where the decision of the people is respected. They have let us down, they are continually letting us down and we can't see any way out."

The economic slump that has gripped the Palestinian territories this year is part of the frustration. Mr Abu Latifa has owned his shop, with its shelves of dolls, plastic children's guns, computer disks and Christmas wrapping paper, for 16 years. This year has been his hardest yet, he said. All through the morning he has only one or two customers.

"We have people with their own interests, benefiting from the Palestinian Authority, while most of the people want a fair peace, sovereignty and stability," he said. "This is our tragedy."

Boycott

Along the road is a fruit and vegetable store, with Islamic calligraphy on the walls. Inside are several longstanding Hamas supporters. Abdullah Jarrar, 27, works in the religious affairs ministry but has gone unpaid since March because of a financial boycott by Israel and the west. He sells chickens from a shop across the road and speaks critically of the President Mahmoud Abbas, the Fatah leader, who is trying to force Hamas to compromise. "If we recognise Israel, we lose our country and the right to return," he said. "Hamas came through democracy and then they put a siege on our government. We shouldn't be fighting each other, that is forbidden."

One of the busier shops on the street sells cheap crockery and is run by Ayad Awad, 34. He has a poster of Yasser Arafat, the former Fatah leader, on his wall. He and his family are committed Fatah loyalists, not swayed by criticisms of the party's corruption and misrule.

"We know it is we the people who are paying the price of this fighting between factions," he said. "Our ultimate loyalty is not for the country but for one particular faction. If we were truly loyal to our country, none of this would happen."

He expressed his anger at Hamas, saying it was not ready to make the compromises necessary to strike a peace deal with Israel, and its leaders were trying to manipulate the crisis to build strength. Yet a real civil war, he sensed, was unlikely. "At the end of the day this is a red line we will not cross," he said. "But we have reached a point where we need to change."

In the political rhetoric of the Palestinian crisis this frustration has been hardly touched on. Instead the focus has been on the immediate rivalry.

After several months of failed negotiations between the two sides to form a national unity government, Mr Abbas said last week there should be early elections, but set no date. Ismail Haniyeh, the Hamas prime minister, refused to take part, saying any new election would be unconstitutional. Other Hamas ministers described it as a coup. Yesterday, there were more gun battles between armed groups in Gaza and in Nablus, in the West Bank.

There are a few who have highlighted the wider sense of disappointment with the political class, people such as Khalil Abu Arafeh, an architect from Jerusalem, who draws popular political cartoons in the pages of the al-Quds daily newspaper.

One of his recent drawings shows a man in spectacles, his finger pointing in the air, lecturing a woman and her four children. Behind him is a small hill and a burning torch, the flame in the shape of the Star of David. On the hill are the words: "Israel's nuclear weapon." The man is saying to the woman: "The most dangerous weapon threatening the Palestinian people ... " and the woman ends his sentence " ... is chaos."

Another shows two bearded, bespectacled, grinning men in suits and ties. Each carries a briefcase marked with a dollar sign and the word "funds", an allusion to the millions of dollars of support Hamas has secured from countries such as Iran and Qatar in the past month. A speech bubble between the two men says: "Why have a national unity government?"

"I have a feeling that the money that Hamas gets goes for Hamas's own benefit," said Mr Abu Arafeh, 48. He describes himself as a liberal and a determined critic of Hamas, but also of the other big political leaders. That could be awkward for him, since he is from a family steeped in political Islam. His brother is the Hamas minister for Jerusalem and is being held in an Israeli prison with several other Hamas leaders.

His family don't always like his cartoons. "They don't appreciate it," he said with marked understatement. He described how he was heckled by Hamas supporters when he went to court to see his brother after his detention. "But I believe in something. I believe this is something I have to express," he said.

He qualified as an architect in Ukraine, and still works in the profession, though he has also drawn cartoons since 1983. In the past his most controversial cartoons have been refused by Palestinian newspaper editors or banned by the Israeli military censors. Since the death of Arafat, and even after the arrival of the Hamas government, he has been more free to criticise but more concerned about the future.

"I don't feel we are reaching a solution," he said. "There is a regional conflict in the Palestinian territories. The Palestinian people are divided into many groups. Some have relations with the regimes around us and each regime has its own interests in this conflict. The Palestinian people are being used."

Sign up for the Guardian Today

Our editors' picks for the day's top news and commentary delivered to your inbox each morning.